I used to think the safety plug for Little Boy was the creepiest thing I'd ever sold at auction. No more.
And it's not this, either. Although it's creepier than the plug.
No, it's this
humble desk blotter, a 1941 Christmas present from a loving wife to her devoted husband. It still has his signatures all over the blotting paper. He liked the pretty blue ink, who knew?
If you hold it up to the mirror you could probably read them.
Reinhard Heydrich, Reinhard Heydrich, Reinhard Heydrich...
I would not have it in my house, thank you.